The String of Pearls (1850), p. 468

"Fool that I am," muttered Lupin, "to be continually assailed by dread of this woman, when everything assures me that she has been in a sound sleep caused by a powerful narcotic, during the whole night; but the morning is now near at hand, and she will soon awaken. I have already got what money I can, from her, and I must give her breakfast and then send her off. It would be useless to kill her."
The manner in which Lupin pronounced these last words was very alarming for it implied rather that he was asking himself the question whether it would be useless to kill her or not, than the expression of a decided opinion; but still Mrs. Oakley moved not.
Lupin, suddenly, as though he had quite made up his mind not to trouble himself about her any more, slammed to the door of communication between
the two rooms.
Mrs. Oakley breathed freely again—that is, comparatively freely; and yet whata shocking agonizing idea it was that she might have to breakfast with that
dreadful man. What should she say to him?—how should she look at him?
The dawn was coming, and she shook with apprehension to find that such was the fact, and Lupin had said that she would soon awaken; so, effect to awaken she must, in order to keep up the delusion; but how should she manage then to deceive the suspicious vigilance of such a man?
But all this had to be encountered. How was it to be avoided? She could do nothing but arm herself with such fortitude as she could call to her aid.
Oh, how she wished herself in her own parlour behind the shop, and upon her knees asking the pardon of her husband for all that she had done, and for all that she had not done! What would she have not given even to have seen the honest face of big Ben, the beef-eater!
The light of the coming day grew each moment stronger, and at length Mrs. Oakley thought it would be prudent to seem to wake up, and calling out "Mr.
Lupin! Mr. Lupin!" she rose from the couch.
Lupin opened the door of communication between the two rooms, and glared at her.
"Did you call, sister Oakley?"
"Yes, reverend sir, surely I have been sleeping, and have forgotten some of the prayers."
"No; truly, sister Oakley, I have watched for you, and I can assure you that you will enter into the kingdom always, provided that you are regular in your contributions to the chapel, for at the last that of a surety will be demanded to be known of you, sister Oakley."
"I have been thinking of that, brother Lupin," said Mrs. Oakley, "and this day week I will manage to bring two pounds."
"Only two?"
"I will make it three, if I can, brother Oakley; but my head feels quite confused and giddy. It is very strange."
"Ah," whispered Lupin to himself. "That is the natural effect of the narcotic. It has worked well. Then," he said aloud, "sister Oakley, I pray you to walk in to this room, and I will provide for you what the profane world call the breakfast, for although food for the soul is in alway preferable to food for the body, yet we must not always neglect our earthly tabernacle."
"I am much obliged to you," said Mrs. Oakley. " You may depend upon my regular offerings to the chapel."

CHAPTER CVII.
RETURNS TO MRS. LOVETT, AND SHOWS HOW SHE GOT OUT OF THE RIVER.

With trembling steps, Mrs. Oakley followed Lupin, the murderer, into his own room. Of course she was resolved to see nothing, and to make no remark
that could in any way direct the attention of L upin more closely to her, and, oh,